


sunrise

by vanatte



Category: Unus Annus - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Annus - Freeform, CrankGameplays - Freeform, Ethan Nestor - Freeform, Mark Fischbach - Freeform, Markiplier - Freeform, Nostalgia, Oneshot, Other, Short One Shot, Unus - Freeform, Unus Annus, some rambling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 07:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26967892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanatte/pseuds/vanatte
Summary: And absentmindedly, he looked at the small stone. It felt heavy in his hand, suddenly, in his heart. His fingers clenched around the cold crystal.And he was unable to think.I thought you might want it back,was everything a little note on his desk said.
Relationships: Unus & Annus
Comments: 5
Kudos: 75





	sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> nostalgia kicked in.  
>  _[ i still can't words properly. ] ___

Darkness of the night hugs him tightly; a warm wind makes its way between old stems and branches, tousling his hair. Not like he's even able to care any less about something so trivial. Every breath feels heavy in his lungs. His eyes close in almost-fear, a feeling dangerously close to guilt.

“Unus.”

The voice isn't cold, not exactly. Familiar nonetheless. He shakes his head, biting at his lower lip. It takes him a moment to convince himself to open his eyes.

“Annus.” Unus' lips curls up slightly, forming a bitter smile. “It's good to see you, too.”

Everything feels strange, somewhere, in the air and in the ground. Under his feet. Like vines, rooting itself in his heart and making its way up to his mind. Poisoning him. Strangling. He chokes on a breath he didn't want to take.

Annus chuckles softly at his struggle, he thinks. _He knows._  
They've spent the short eternity of their lives together.  
But he doesn't mean it, he knows, he never does.

There's a warm hand on his shoulder and a quiet whisper close to his ear.

“You know,” the voice is as dark and deep as the night surrounding them. It's late, now. Minutes before early. “what's fallen apart must become one again, eventually.”

And with that, the pain is no more. Unus' fingers close around the white stone he's holding, for a fraction of a second. Maybe two. His eyes open.  
_And he sees. ___

__A man in white. _A deity_ , mortals would think. So does he, in a way. A man in white, holding a black stone close to his heart. A small one. Cold in touch, Unus supposes. It's making his soul itch._ _

__“Aren't you scared, Annus?”_ _

__A simple question. A minute of silence between them and an uninterpretable look on Annus' face. Unus knows the answer before the other says it out loud._ _

__“Me? No,” he stops. Looks up, searching for something in the sky. Stars, probably. “Are you?”_ _

__Unus follows Annus' gaze. Inhales deeply. It is early now, and the deep shade of black is starting to pale, only a little. It pains him, the end. What's next, he doesn't know. So he says exactly that._ _

__“I don't know. It hurts,” he breathes. “The stars are shining brightly tonight.”_ _

__And they are, indeed. Painting the night sky with colors he's never seen before. A cold wind sings in whispers. Sweet words tangled with sadness.  
_The sunrise's sonnet_ , he thinks, _it's about time_._ _

__“These crystals, you know,” man's voice low, but his eyes high up. Annus' fingers are closed around his little black stone. “are nothing more than sand in the hourglass.”_ _

__“Just mangled, the sand. It's like time doesn't forgive.”_ _

__Annus nods. And smiles. And then looks at Unus. At the warm sun, rising early morning's fog from dewy leaves and painting his face with light.  
And he cries, Unus thinks. But he doesn't know for sure._ _

__And he doesn't ask. He can't._ _

__“I don't know what's next,” Annus says, his voice distorted with an unknown emotion. The longing, perhaps, “But stars are always here. Even after sunrise.”_ _

_Even after..._

__And he smiles, again. So brightly, as if the end means nothing to him. And maybe it doesn't, at all._ _

__And then, Unus thinks, maybe he's crying, too._ _

__But he doesn't have the time to think about it. The sun rises, after all, letting them bathe in the warm light for one last time._ _

__And then, there's nothing, but trees and fresh air. A cold morning in the mountains. And birds' chirping. And stars, high above, with the sun shining.  
_Somewhere far away.___


End file.
